Having reached the summit, we proceeded across it to the banks of Fox River, where we encamped. It consists of a level plain. The distance is a mile and a half. It required, however, some time to have our baggage and canoes transported, which was done by a Frenchman residing at this summit. Such is the slight difference in the level of the two rivers, that Indian canoes are pushed through the marshy ridges when the rivers are swelled by freshets. It was half-past three o'clock of the 15th, the day following our arrival, before the transportation and loading of our canoes was completed. It was then necessary to push our canoes through fields of rushes and other aquatic plants, through which the river winds. This was a slow mode of progress, and we spent the remainder of the day in passing fifteen miles, which brought us to the FORKS, so called, where the northern unites with the southern branch of the river. At this spot we encamped. Next day we estimated our descent at sixty-three miles, having found the navigation less intricate and obstructed from the aquatic growth. In this distance we passed, at thirty miles below the fork, a piece of clear water of nine miles extent, called Buffalo Lake; and at the distance of twelve miles lower, another lake of some twelve miles in extent, called Puckaway Lake. Down to this point, the Fox River has scarcely a perceptible current. We found we had not only, in parting from the Wisconsin to the Fox, exchanged an open, swift, and strong flowing current, for a very quiet and still one, winding through areas of wild rice and the whole family of water plants; but had intruded into a region of water-fowl and birds of every plumage, who, as they rioted upon their cherished zizania aquatica, made the air resound with their screams. The blackbird appeared to be lord of these fields. We had also intruded upon a favorite region of the water-snake, who, coiled up on his bed of plants at every bend of the stream, slid off with spiteful glance into the stream. In passing these places of habitation, which the Chippewas call wauzh, we perceptibly smelt an unpleasant odor arising from it.
The next day we descended the river seventy miles. There is a perceptible current below Puckaway Lake. The river increases in width and depth, and offers no impediment whatever to its navigation. Fox River runs, indeed, from the portage to Winnebago Lake on a summit, over which it winds among sylvan hills, covered with grass and prairie-flowers, interspersed with groves of oak, elm, ash, and hickory, and dotted at intervals with lakes of refreshing transparent water. The height of this summit, above the Mississippi and the lakes, must be several hundred feet (stated at 234), which permits the stream to flow with liveliness, insuring, when it comes to be settled,[ [121] the erection of hydraulic works; and it would be difficult to point to a region possessing in its soil, climate, and natural resources, a more favorable character for an agricultural population. It has a diversified surface, without mountains; a fine dry atmosphere; an admirable drainage east, west, north, and south, and a ready access to the great oceanic marts through the Great Lake and the Mississippi.
We passed, this day, several encampments and villages of Winnebagoes and Menomonies—tribes, who, with the erratic habits of the Tartars, or Bedouins, once spread their tents in the Fox and Wisconsin valleys, but have now (1853) relinquished them to the European race; and it does not, at this distance of time, seem important to denote the particular spots where they once boiled their kettles of corn, or thumped their magic drums. God have mercy on them in their wild wanderings! We also passed the entrance of Wolf River, a fine bold stream on the left; and soon below it the handsome elevation of La Butte de Morts, or the Hillock of the Dead. This eminence was covered by the frail lodges of the Winnebagoes. The spot is memorable in Indian history, for a signal defeat of the Foxes, by the French and their Indian allies in the seventeenth century, after which, this tribe was finally expelled from the Fox valley. Our night's encampment (17th) was below this spot. The night air was remarkably cold, and put an end to our further annoyance from mosquitos. We embarked at five o'clock the next morning during a dense fog, which was in due time dissipated by the rising sun. We had been five hours in our canoes, under the full force of paddles, when we entered Winnebago Lake. This is a most beautiful and sylvan expanse of water some twenty-four miles long by ten in width, surrounded by picturesque prairie and sloping plains. It has a stream at Fond du Lac, its southern extremity,[ [122] which is connected by a short portage with the principal source of Rock River of the Mississippi.
The Fox River, after having displayed itself in the lake, leaves it, at its northern extremity, flowing by a succession of rapids and falls over horizontal limestones to the head of Green Bay. There is a Winnebago village, under Hoo Tshoop, or Four Legs, at the point of outlet, where we landed, and as the first rapid begins at that point, creating a delay, I took the occasion to examine its geology more closely, by procuring fresh fractures of the masses of rock in the vicinity. This process, it appeared, was narrowly watched by the Indians, who wondered what such a scrutiny should mean. The French, said the chief to one of our interpreters, formerly held possession of this country; and, afterwards, came the British. They contented themselves with common things, and never disturbed these rocks, which have been laying here forever. But the moment the Americans get possession of the country, they must come and knock off pieces of the rock, and look at them. It is marvellous!
A brilliant mass of native copper, weighing ten or twelve pounds, was found by an Indian, some years ago, on the shores of this lake. The moment he espied it, his imagination was fired, and he fancied he beheld the form of a beautiful female, standing in the water. Glittering in radiancy, she held out in her hand a lump of gold. He paddled his canoe towards her, furtively and slow, but, as he advanced, a transformation gradually ensued. Her eyes lost their brilliancy, her face the glow of life and health, her arms disappeared; and when he reached the spot, the object had changed into a stone monument of the human form, with the tail of a fish. Amazed, he sat awhile in silence; then, lighting his pipe, he offered it the incense of tobacco, and addressed it, as the guardian angel of his country. Lifting the miraculous image gently into his canoe, he took his seat, with his face in an opposite direction, and paddled towards shore, on reaching which, and turning round to the object of his regard, he discovered, in its place, nothing but a lump of shining virgin copper.
Such are the imaginative efforts of this race, who look to the eyes of civilization as if they had themselves faces of stone, and hearts of adamant.
CHAPTER XVII.
Descent of the Fox River from Winnebago Lake to Green Bay—Incidents—Etymology, conchology, mineralogy—Falls of the Konomic and Kakala—Population and antiquity of the settlement of Green Bay—Appearances of a tide, not sustained.